Voyager's Out Of This World Prose Poem On The Mind's Universe Comments

If the mind may be a universe unto itself, may the universe be a mind unto itself, and, if so, can it mind that minds can can, or cannot can, or encapsulate along a dotted line frame form spurning former formal form frames as fresh fusion transforms confusion into a cohesive constellation of potential energy particles?

A state me[a]ntal line, desperate to [t]race light, as if its existence depended upon its s[p]eed, soars, curving, arching, starching star I Ching through the marching universe, attempting to reach, underscore, and underline itself although temporal continuum discrepancies perpetually portray parallelax perceptions as spinning personnified neutrons mocking both judgemental convictions and neutrality. Is everything relativity one [m]asks laughing at Draconian measures?
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